


This Goodbye Kiss

by Jumping_Girl_Juliet



Category: Hey! Say! JUMP
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ballroom Dancing, Break Up, Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, F/M, Getting Back Together, Happily Ever After, Sad, aesthetic, chapter 1 angst, chapter 1 angst and feels, chapter 1 sad ending, never forgotten, reunited, sometimes you don't leave a relationship because you don't love each other anymore, sorry for the sad but someone asked for angst and I gave it lol, time apart is good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 11:30:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11508525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jumping_Girl_Juliet/pseuds/Jumping_Girl_Juliet
Summary: FIRST CHAPTER:Warnings: gut wrenching sadness and a bit of languageGenre: angst. angst. angst. There is no happiness to be found here.Just…this is a sad one guys…;*(SECOND CHAPTER:Reunited, happily ever after





	1. This Goodbye Kiss

## Song that inspired the fic:

3 Doors Down - Here Without You (Lyrics) <–which you can listen to while you read if you would like to be even more rekt.

 

The whirlwind of his career had taken Ryosuke across the world again, and he was so thrilled, this was, after all, what he’d been working for so hard, for so long—finally, he was being rewarded with better jobs, bigger movies, and more worldwide promotions. It was all he’d really dreamed of and of course, daily, he happily felt the positive glow of his situation—but right now, tonight, as he sat alone in a hotel room 4000 miles away from everyone—he couldn’t help but feel the tug of homesickness.

Desperately missing home, and more specifically— _you_.

He plopped down on the couch, turning on the tv to break the empty silence as he lay his head back on the edge, his arms stretched out beside him, his mind going over the events of the day, and the plan for the next day, the constant whirring in his mind a nice distraction from the ache in his heart.

He startled when his phone indicated he had a text…he reached over, tapping the code and then opening his messages to find one from you.

_I need to talk to you._

Weird…you were usually more…something…the message was short and curt and he didn’t like it. Someone must have done something to you, so he quickly tapped back a response.

_I’m free now, you can call? I’ll kill whoever hurt you._

He stared at the screen, smiling when your picture lit it up, pushing the button to answer it quickly, “Hello, my love!”

Your voice was quiet, too soft, and you knew he was going to know immediately that something was wrong, but couldn’t change it as the words left your mouth, “Hi, Ryosuke.”

He sat up, leaning forward with his hand on his forehead as he closed his eyes, “Baby, what happened, what’s wrong?”

You wanted to do this right, wanted to have eloquent words and to say things a certain way but it evaded you, and all you wanted flew out the window at the sound of his worry and concern, a tear sliding down your cheek as you spoke, the words rushed, and frantic, “Ryosuke, I just—I know this is bad, I know this is a bad thing to do right now—but I really just…I need you to know, listen, I really love you, okay?”

“W-wh…wha….I love you too?”

“I know…I know you do, I do know that, I do, but…the thing is….”

UGH. This was so much easier in your mind, when you were just playing it off a voice that said all the right things and sounded happy, versus the one on the other end of the line, sounding confused and hurt.

“Baby, you’re scaring me,” he whispered, his words threaded with worry and fear.

“I’m scared,” you responded, truthfully, because you were terrified, there was no reason to hide it, “I don’t…Ryosuke, I have been given a job, overseas.”

“What!? That’s awesome! Why are you so upset then? This is what you wanted!”

“No, listen to me, Ryo, it’s a job, a permanent one, overseas…it’s not the  _temp_ one I applied for.”

“Wh—what? Permanent?”

“Yes,” you shook your head, frowning as another tear fell, “I’m sorry.”

“But…it’s okay, I mean, you’ll get vacation and you can come home and I can come to visit you and I mean we’ll make it work and it wi—“

“Ryosuke,” you said his name firmly, stopping him, because you couldn’t let him go on with that thought, couldn’t let him believe it was okay, “that won’t work, that doesn’t work for normal people, but it would never work for us, we’re apart all the time already, and you only travel a few times a year…”

“But…we can figure out a way to d—“

“No.”

“N-no?”

“No,” you whispered, and it felt to you like the entire universe had tethered a line to your heart and was trying to rip it directly from your chest, “No, Ryo-chan, we…I don’t think we  _can_  figure it out. I’ve thought about it for the last four days, and I just…I don’t think it would be fair to either of us…to try to do this—to put each other through this when the inevitable end would be the same.”

“Wh—baby, what are you saying?”

“I think we need to break up, Ryosuke,” the words felt bitter as you said them, your heart clenching in your chest as this was the last thing you wanted to do, but you knew, no matter how much you wished it to be otherwise, there just was no way—this would never work—at least not for the future you had planned.

“No,” he hissed, standing up, beginning to pace across the floor, “We’re not doing that! What is  _wrong_ with you? We’re not breaking up just because you got a new job!”

“I didn’t just get  _‘a job’_ , Ryo—I got ‘ _the_ ’ job, the one I wanted, the one I’ve been working for all along, I can’t not go!”

“I’m not asking you to not go!” he screamed into the phone and you flinched, you could hear him taking a ragged breath before he spoke again, calmly, “I wouldn’t stop you from going, I want you to have your dreams—I just…baby,  _why_  does that mean we can’t be together.”

“I…our relationship is already so hard, it’s a challenge all the time, not being able to go out, not being able to be honest with my friends and family, not being able to see you and be like a normal couple…I know, I knew all of this, I did, and I wanted it to work, I’ve tried, please, I’ve tried so hard…”

“So, it’s hard,” he whispered, falling onto the couch, laying on his side, curled up, “and you want to quit.”

It was quiet for a long time, the soft words he’d spoken feeling like an attack straight to your soul, you took a breath, your voice shaking when you spoke, “I don’t want to quit, that’s no—“

“You are though!” he shouted, and you knew he was crying, and you stood up, leaning your head against the cold surface of the wall, as his distraught words reached across the miles to rip at your flesh, “You’re giving up, on me, on us, and the only reason you’re telling me is because it’s HARD.”

“It is hard!” you screamed back at him, temper flaring at the way you’d lived your life since you’d started seeing each other, “It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced! Pretending to not know you, acting like I don’t care, watching other people be close to you in a way I can’t possibly be! Living a lie with everyone except our very closest family members?! Not being able to be real and show my love for you to the world!? It’s the hardest thing and I hate it!”

“You hate it,” he murmured, gasping as another sob rocked his body, “But… _you love me_.”

“I do love you,” your voice was watery and slow as the words left your mouth.

“But…that’s—it’s not enough?” he asked, his voice flat and broken.

“No, I’m sorry,” you bit your lip, knowing the words were killing him, knowing his expression, and hating yourself for not being able to make this work, “It’s not enough, Ryosuke.”

“You’re not the person I thought you were,” he hissed, and you felt your anger spike.

“What the hell does that mean!?”

“I thought you were stronger than this, braver, I thought you were the kind of person who looks adversity in the eye and kicks its ass, but you’re not, are you? Not at all!?”

You threw the vase from your dresser across the room, the glass shattering against the wall, splintering into a million pieces just like your heart, “That’s not fair!”

“No, no, you’re wrong, that’s fair and right, what’s not fair is that you didn’t even bother to talk to me about this! You didn’t even give me a choice, you just decided all on your own that because you couldn’t handle it, then neither of us could be happy! I would have done anything, would have moved the world, but you didn’t even care, didn’t even let me try!”

“You’re just a human being!” your voice was trill and you hated it, your defenses high as you continued, “You can’t fix all of this, you can’t do anything, your life is not in your own control.”

“That has changed, you’ve watched it change, and more and more I’ve been given more freedom, and more control—you knew this was like this, that’s how it was when we met, and you knew it was part of it! It’s better now, and it would only get  _better_  in time!”

You remained silent, words failing you completely.

“It was only getting better,” by the end, his voice was small, so tiny, and you could hear him sobbing, you could hear him struggling to take breath as his body was infused with pain, the words like daggers to your heart, “Please, please, don’t do this!”

You heard it, the breaking, the crack that began and was slowly spreading through the distance between you two, his voice a whimper, “Please, I’m—I—I’m begging you….”

He was not even trying to be brave anymore, his sobs were crystal clear and his heart was laid bare before you, “Please don’t leave me! You’re the love of my life! I love you! Please don’t do this!“

You dropped to the floor, your face on the carpet as you cried, trying to speak but the words not coming as he continued to beg you, “I’ll do anything, please, I will, I will quit Johnny’s! I have enough money, I have all I need, I can do movies, and I can schedule them so that we can be together almost all the time, I swear I can do that! I will do that!”

You found your voice then, at the thought he would quit his job, laughing bitterly, “Ryosuke, do you want me to turn down the job I’ve been given?”

He took a shuddering breath, “I—I—no, of course, no I don’t want you to do that—I never would want you to do that.”

“Then what makes you think—for even a second—that I would be made happy by asking you to give up your dreams?”

The silence stretched out, and you knew he was going over everything—you knew how his mind worked, the way he would approach every issue like a puzzle, trying to discover how to decode it and make it make sense, except this wasn’t like that, not at all. There was no making sense of some things. Sometimes things were just the way they were and all you could do is accept them for what they are.

“Is there no way then?” he whispered, his voice infused with deep pain that struck to the very core of you.

“I’m sorry,” you tried to breath, tried to take a breath, but it felt like a million pounds were pressing down on you, “I’m so sorry.”

“When do you leave?” he asked, his voice still shaking from emotion.

“Next week, on the thirteenth,” you murmured, not even sure if he would be home by then.

“I love you,” he breathed softly, his voice a shallow reflection of the man you knew, the one full of life, and joy, and hope.

“I love you, too,” you answered, sincerity painting your words, “I’m so sorry.”

The line went silent and you cried, for hours, days, you lost track of time and things kept moving around you and then you were standing at the airport, having left everyone at the safety check, all happy for you and excited about your adventure, and you were excited too, because this was it…you’d worked so hard for this. You were proud, and happy, and thankful and excited…but you were also…torn.

The bittersweet tug in your heart that wanted to make you go running back, run back to him was there, and you had fought it nonstop—refusing his calls, deleting his texts, you needed a fresh start, needed to move on and more than anything, you didn’t want to give him any false hopes.

You’d checked all your baggage apart from your small carryon bag and were approaching your gate when you heard it.

_Your name._

_His voice._

You froze, and began to tremble when you felt him behind you, his hands grazing like a whisper across your back as he shifted to stand in front of you, his voice soft as he took your hand, pulling it up for a gentle kiss, his face beautiful as he smiled, “I bought a ticket to be standing here right now, I couldn’t—I couldn’t let you go like that, not like this.”

You shook your head, trying to clear your mind, words failing you because in all your wildest imaginings this couldn’t, wouldn’t have ever happened, your eyes darting to the crowded airport around you, and him standing there holding your hand like it was nothing, “Ryosuke.”

“Just…listen okay?” he pleaded, his eyes full of sincerity, staring into yours, “I love you, and I don’t care who knows it,” he gestured around you, shrugging, then looking back at you when he spoke again, “I realized that no matter where you go, or what time separates us I figure I am always going to love you. I need you to know this, please, understand me, I love you enough to let you go.”

Your eyes were wide as you stared at him, his hand raising to stroke your cheek softly, eyes full of tenderness and love, “I just…I needed you to have a happy memory, I’m sorry I hurt you when we talked, I want you to have…I want to give you a happy memory of leaving.”

You laughed, a bubbly sad laugh, as tears threatened to spill down your cheeks, “ _That’s not possible_.”

His own eyes were red and rimmed with tears as he whispered, stepping forward, his hip shifting in the way that it always did when he intended to take command of a situation, “Ju—just one last kiss, and I’ll never bother you again.”

Before you could speak, he was there, his warm scent, his soft skin, his tender lips pressed into your own, the familiar tension, the way he grazed them softly over yours, fluttering like whispered words before they began to move with a greater depth. His mouth was insistent, trying to convey all the emotions he needed to share with you, and your hands moved up to grab his hair pulling him further toward you, gulping down the whimpering sob that was trying to work its way up from the inner most secret parts of you, the part that hated yourself, the part that thought you were insane for doing this, the part that would  _always_  love him.

You forgot everything, in that moment, you forgot the job, you forgot why you were doing what you were doing, you forgot that you were standing in the middle of a busy airport, and you instead gave yourself over to the magic of this kiss.

_This goodbye kiss._

Laced with the bittersweet emotions of love combined with mourning, of joy mixed with loss, of the turning pages of a calendar of all the days that could have been.

The soft laughter and tears as he proposed, a family heirloom placed on your finger.

The smell of flowers and sugar on your wedding day, wearing white and the joy of all your family as you walked down the aisle to your beloved.

The sound of a tender newborn cry, the way his face would light up as he met his son for the first time, the way he would look at you, a new, beautiful expression born in the way he saw you, now not just his soulmate, but the mother of his child.

The pride you’d see in him as you watched your children grow, the simple times of simple pleasures, the complexities of emotions as you grew older, and then the beautiful light around you as you sat on a porch together somewhere, old and gray watching your baby’s babies play at your feet, looking at each other with a twinkle in your eyes, remembering what could have happened—remembering a day at an airport where you decided neither of your jobs were more important than each other.

And in that single kiss, the beautiful prose on those many pages were painfully ripped away, and what could have been became the fantasy of something that once was, rather became nothing more than a long past destiny that would never be written, not for your life at least, yet you prayed in your heart of hearts it would be yet composed for Ryosuke.

And you didn’t know you were crying, didn’t know he was crying, but you were, your tears mingling together, both weeping as you tried to say goodbye, reluctant to let go, and you were hugging each other, clinging to one another in these final moments, bodies shaking, and he was squeezing you so tight, holding you like his life was going to end if he let go.

“I—I was…I was wrong,” he managed to speak through his sobs, his voice a whimper, broken and wet with tears, “You—you’re braver than me. Stronger than me.”

You laughed through the sorrow, shaking your head, eyes clenched shut, trying to will away the call over the intercom for your flight, “I’m not.”

“You are,” he whispered, his head pressing into yours, hands squeezing impossibly harder, as he inhaled deeply, “you have to let go, I can’t…I can’t do it, you have to do it,  _please_.”

“Okay,” you whispered, turning your head to kiss him softly on the side of his face, feeling his hands shaking where they were touching your back. You didn’t know where the strength came from, maybe it was because he’d told you that you were capable, told you that you were brave, but you found yourself able to open your eyes, despite the screaming in your head.

You straightened up, and as quickly as you could, you moved, ducking down out of the embrace of his arms, and without another word, you forced your feet to move, because this, this was the kindness you could give  _him_  in return for the memory that would undoubtedly haunt him for the rest of his life, the one he was determined to give you, no matter the personal cost for himself.

You could give him  _this_  goodbye that was quick and clean, and you didn’t turn around, despite feeling the way his eyes were boring into you from behind you, no, you didn’t turn around, because if you did….

_You would never be able to leave._


	2. This Perfect Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: This Goodbye Kiss  
> Scene: 2, This Perfect Kiss  
> Pairing/Relationship: Yamada Ryosuke x Reader  
> Rating: PG-15  
> Warnings: Mild Language  
> Genre: Romance, fluff, precious babies  
> Type: Collection
> 
> Summary: Five years have passed since they said goodbye…

**Please note:** I have a separate post located { **[HERE](https://jumping-girl-juliet.tumblr.com/post/164021776598/okay-so-this-song-is-the-one-that-inspired-me-to)** } with some background info, songs and notes that could make it so you enjoy the story more!

 Song inspiration

**Songs that are featured within the fic:**

1)  A Thousand Years lyrics - Christina Perri

2)  Show Me What I’m Looking For - Carolina Liar

3)  Come On Get Higher -  Matt Nathanson

 

 

* * *

 

 

You’d finally emptied the last box, tired and exhausted from the move back home from overseas. You’d spent five years working there, and when your company finally opened an office in Tokyo you begged to get assigned there, desperately missing home and your family and well, normality. You’d purposefully moved to a different district, not wanting to have to go to the coffee shops, the book stores, the places you’d went with him.

You never mentioned it and no one ever asked. Not that many people actually knew about your relationship to even be concerned with the abrupt breakup—but at least people who knew about the two of you had the decency to pretend like things were normal. You were fulfilled and you loved your job and you felt good about all of the things you’d managed to accomplish. You couldn’t be sorry you’d went, and you wouldn’t ever be. You had experiences you’d never have had, you’d learned things you couldn’t have otherwise, and you grew. As a human, as a woman, as a professional…and yes, on the level of relationships, you learned there, too.

Refusing to make any investment into one.

That was the bottom line for you.

Because if you were going to love anyone, it was going to be Ryosuke, if you couldn’t have him, you didn’t want anyone. No one would be capable of taking his place, and you’d mourned it, had to change your phone number eventually, because he kept messaging you, he would say he needed to just say in contact, to just be friends, promising to just remain friends.

Except, you couldn’t do that.

You couldn’t have him be a part of your life without having him  _be_  your life.

It just wasn’t possible.

You realized you had to make a choice–be this person, the strong, independent woman, who was capable of walking away from everything to go overseas for her job, or the one who would give up everything for one man. As it turned out, you’d realized, far too late, that there might have been a way to have both, but…whether it was being too young, too headstrong, or just too stupid, it didn’t matter. There was no going back after those wheels left the ground on a plane leaving him behind.

You had moments you’d wanted to call him. There were times you saw a movie, or a rerun of a stupid television show you used to watch together, and you’d pick up your phone to text him and then stop yourself, admonishing yourself for being so stuck in time, a slave to the past. It wasn’t the best way to handle things, the clean cut, but then again, isn’t everything easier to see more clearly from a distance instead of standing on top of it?

You clapped your hands, shaking off the heaviness of the direction your mind had taken you. You’d went through a period of mourning and then you cleared your mind of it all. Determined to make the best of the decision you’d made, and you felt like you’d been successful. 

Now you had to get ready to go to some over the top social event, a ‘Midsummer’s Ball’ or some other ridiculous nonsense that only bored, wealthy people ever got excited over. As the daughter of a long line of those very wealthy people you had certain expectations laid on your shoulders, and this was one of them.

It wasn’t unexpected, of course, as you’d been going to no less than eight, sometimes ten balls a year since you’d become a teenager, in fact, that was how you’d met Ryosuke. 

Johnny’s had a habit of wanting their boys to stay on the good side of the powers that be in the region, and the best way to do that was to give all of the elite access to the idols. Nothing thrilled your own grandmother more than a dance with one of the gorgeous young men. You were thirteen, having been prepared for the debut for years via formal dance instruction, etiquette classes, and instruction on how to do what when, where and why–all in an effort to both advance the family pride as well as prevent you from embarrassing your family.

The first ball you attended, you’d shown up in a light pink gown feeling a lot like a big poof of cotton candy, mad at your mom for dressing you in such a…a…stupidly pink gown—stepping into the room with your nerves on edge and wanting to leave before the first refrain had even been played.

You’d danced the first dance with some boy you didn’t know and then you found a corner to hide in, trying to blend into the surroundings so your parents wouldn’t make you dance with another stranger. That was when  _he_  looked up from a handheld game he was playing, startling you because he was so quiet you didn’t even know he was there. He was a Johnny’s and he didn’t like that they had to come there either.

“You’re pretty,” he murmured his eyes wide and innocent as he stared at you.

You gasped, your hand fluttering to your chest in shock.

“I-I m-mean, oh my God, I meant to say—your  _dress_  is pretty!” He was so red and flustered, and you didn’t mean to laugh but it just happened and then he ducked back down to play his game, studiously ignoring you as you studied him, and you wanted to say to him that he was the one who was pretty because you’d really never seen a boy as pretty as he was.

Eventually, you’d moved to the chair next to him, having pilfered a plate full of confections off the dessert table to share with him, complaining about the ball, and he’d jerked his head up to stare at you, “I know right!” And so, it was through a thorough distaste for the ballroom, and the heartfelt offering of sweet treats, that you and Ryosuke had met at the age of thirteen, and then blossomed into something more.

_I can’t believe I’m going back to that damn ballroom again. Mom owes me bigtime for this nonsense._

* * *

 

The ballroom was beautiful, just as you remembered and the nostalgia wasn’t lost on you, everything about the room was elegant, full of gold and candle light, and a deep red velvet, and so beautifully ornate and all you could think was that you hated being here. You never were very good at these social events, but your parents as part of the elite social circle they were with had every expectation that you would represent the family—and that was double now that you were back home again.

It was easy with Ryosuke there though, as he had always kept you distracted—with secret stolen kisses, and subtle flirting, and inside jokes only the two of you knew—taking away all of the anxiety with fluttery butterflies and laughter—but now the room just loomed large with all the socialites and trust-fund boys, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

_I’ll stay one hour and make the rounds, then I’m out, I have Netflix and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s waiting for me at home._

You hadn’t even been home for a week, when a courier arrived at your door—presenting you with a gilded invitation with your name printed in gold lettering, oddly, only containing your first name, but you dismissed that—as he was also holding a dress bag from one of the preeminent designers within five hundred miles. You wanted to be mad at your mom, but you could only imagine that she just wanted to help, didn’t want you to settle into being alone too much.

It was a gorgeous dress to be certain, and as you moved through the room, you could feel eyes on you, imagining that they were wondering ‘is that…?’, or ‘when did she get here’, or ‘I didn’t know their daughter was home’, and that was fine, let them talk, because you also knew they were talking how much you’d grown, how you looked like a genuine adult now.

_I mean really, I am an adult for goodness sake!_

The dress helped, you knew when the courier had delivered it that your mother was still being salty. She’d never agreed with you running away to be a professional and not giving her grand babies with Ryosuke.  _‘You two would make the most beautiful babies!’_  You had to roll your eyes at the words she’d said so often, and her obsession with this was the biggest reason you hadn’t come home in the last five years, forcing them to come overseas to see you instead. That said, when you had drawn down the zipper on the dress bag you had sworn profusely and loudly as you discovered that the dress was a vivid, brilliant red. Meant to make sure every eye would be on you, and  _also_  to remind you that you’d given up a future your mother had fallen madly in love with.

In all fairness, the dress  _was_  exquisite, and you knew it fit you in a way that made you look gorgeous. You didn’t always have that much confidence, not at all, but tonight, for some reason, making your debut back into the social circle again, it felt right, you felt right, and you knew how amazing this dress made you look. The way the dress fit your entire form perfectly to accentuate your curves, the flare at the bottom trimmed with delicate lace, and billowy ruffles, the sweep-up train, all of it so lovely, and the way the bodice was cut low in a style you never would have worn it five years ago made you smile.

The way the swirling sequins and beads made an intricate, sparkling pattern that swept down the front, spreading into a beautiful motif on the bottom of the dress—and you couldn’t wait to feel the fabric swish around your ankles when you finally danced—hoping now that one of the boys there would actually have progressed in their dance abilities as the last ball you’d attended the room was sorely lacking in that department, apart from Ryosuke, of course. It was doubtful anyone here would rival his style and ability, sadly.

The lights in the room made your dress shimmer and shine as you moved, the flowing arm cuffs that attached to your fingers wispy and delicate in the air around you. And as you passed the first handful of people you heard them gasp, wanting to turn around and smile at them, or stick your tongue out, either way, as they got a look at the back of your dress. A small piece of decorative lace at the top of your neck, and then the straps that ran to the front under your arms, but otherwise it was wide open all the way down to the curve of your behind,  _barely decent_ , and you actually should thank your mom for at least getting a gown that was a  _little_ scandalous for your debut instead of another pink catastrophe.

You’d barely made it past the first row of tables before Mr. Tanaka, a young man who had pursued you relentlessly when you were younger, admittedly, because he didn’t know you were in a relationship, still, it wasn’t lost on you that he had been obsessed with wanting to know why you wouldn’t give him a chance, extolling all the virtues of an ‘arrangement’ between your family and his. The thought of the word merger being a part of any discussion of marriage was disgusting and you’d never be happy with that even if you hadn’t been in love with Ryosuke.

Mr. Tanaka bowed deeply, his eyes roaming over your form and part of you wanted to cover yourself because he made you feel dirty by leering at you like that so boldly, and then he held his hand out, asking if you would honor him with a dance.

_Damn it._

You hadn’t even made it past the first ring of tables! You could feel the eyes on you from all of the people around the room, and knew better than to shun him in front of everyone, so you bowed in return, smiling as best you could, rolling your eyes as you gestured to your gown behind you. He shuffled to grab the loop, settling it upon your outstretched hand, then taking your fingertips in his own, and you allowed yourself to be led out onto the polished dance floor.

He wasn’t especially gifted at dance, and you knew that particularly because Ryosuke was a master at it, of course, because of his incessant drive to be the best at whatever he set his mind to—ballroom dancing being no exception. He was positively amazing, and though you both had to dance with many other people, thanks to the way the whole stupid order of propriety worked inside this room—you’d been able to dance with one another, often five or six times during a single ball—a few times more when many people were sick or otherwise unable to attend. Those were your favorite nights.

You tried to not frown, because Mr. Tanaka’s hands were sweaty and you found the cologne he was wearing to be too strong, too harsh in your nose. You took a deep breath, trying to make the best of it—allowing yourself to be moved around the room in a less than graceful way—but at least he wasn’t stepping on your toes.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that kept sweeping across your skin as he spun you around the outside of the circle, it felt like a tingle of sparks on your skin, and you wondered if the dress was somehow producing static electricity. It seemed unlikely since it was spring, but you couldn’t shake it.

“How long are you going to be here?” he asked, kindly, and your eyes met his, trying to figure out if this was a casual question or not—you had no trust with this man, not even a bit, viewing him mostly as a poisonous viper.

“I’m actually living here again,” you responded, your eyes drifting away to watch the colors flow past, reds, and golds, and blacks, and you wondered how long this song actually was.

“Maybe I could see you?” he asked, his voice hesitant and you realized all at once that he was actually being sincere, for once in his life, completely sincere, and you wanted to laugh because it was so shocking, his voice timid as he continued, “That is, of course, if you don’t…have someone else after all this time.”

_Ugh._

“No, he’s not in my life anymore…” you spoke without thinking, biting your tongue instantly, because even though it was true all it would do is create rumors you absolutely were not prepared to deal with.

“That is to say, of course, I think it would be better for me to be more stable and established here, having only just returned back home, before I start considering investing time into relationships,” you answered in the proper diplomatic way that you knew you should.

“I see,” he nodded, not pausing for a breath, “Then, perhaps, if I could take your number wi— “

“Excuse me,” a statement came from beside you and you froze, your heart beating wildly in your chest, your steps fumbling, as the timbre of his voice washed across your skin, and Mr. Tanaka frowned, his eyes narrowing as he attempted to move away, and you tried to drag your feet, tried to make them move.

“May I cut in?”

Mr. Tanaka knew the proper etiquette but you could see that he wasn’t keen on letting you go, and your eyes searched for an exit, for a way to escape, the thought flittering across your mind, wondering if you would be able to feign fainting well enough to get taken away in an ambulance.

And then Mr. Tanaka released your hand, using his arm to usher you to the edge of the floor, so the other dancers could move past, and he stepped back, bowing, and somehow out of nothing more than rote memory—you bowed in return…and you were screaming internally, your body was trembling, and then  _his_ fingers grasped the tips of your own, and he slowly lifted your hand, moving to stand in front of you, bowing languidly, his eyes seeking your own, which were firmly planted on the floor between you.

And you bowed, the instinct, the knowing of this routine, the music changing and you turned your head toward the orchestra as the first notes rang out, realizing that they were on break and now there were songs being managed by a DJ, a smile playing at your lips as most of the older dancers moved off the floor, making room for the now young adults who had spent years perfecting their dance to this modern song.

 

> _Heart beats fast_
> 
> _Colors and promises_

You took a shuddering breath, knowing this wasn’t an accident, positive that he had done this, requested this, because you’d always ended up dancing with him to this song during the years of stupid ballroom dances, and hidden relationships—it was a joke then, a tease to the world, an ‘if they only knew’ kind of sentiment, but right now, it didn’t feel that way, didn’t feel like a joke, not a tease at all.

 

> _How to be brave_
> 
> _How can I love when I’m afraid to fall_

You gradually lifted back up, his hand clasping yours firmly, the fingers of his other hand grazing your hip, moving slowly up your side, causing your skin to erupt in chills, drawing you forward, closer to him, the palm of his hand coming to rest on your bare back, and stepping there into him, suddenly the world began to drift away, as you became intoxicated with the scent that was all him, shifting a bit closer as the smell of his cologne, and spice, and just  _him_  wafted in the air around you, and it was all you could to refrain from moaning out loud as it rushed through your senses.

 

> _I have died every day, waiting for you_
> 
> _Darling, don’t be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years_

And he was beautiful, more beautiful than you could remember, having avoided anything that had something remotely to do with him at all costs, you had not seen a picture or video of him since the day you left, and your memories had not done him justice. He was breathtaking, stunning, and you couldn’t help but take in his trim figure, the way the suit was tailored to his physique in perfection, confused as you studied the vest, the ascot, trying to figure out why they looked familiar, but not able to place it.

 

> _Time stands still_
> 
> _Beauty in all she is_

Without your eyes even making it up to look at his face, he’d swung you out onto the dance floor with the others who were swirling and moving around the room in a perfected modern interpretation of the waltz, taking the lead, taking control, being who he was, commanding your body to do his will—and you knew the room was full of people, knew you should care, because you also knew they’d all talk and this could lead to a lot of trouble for him—but you couldn’t make yourself worry, couldn’t even see them, as the room beyond him melted into a blur of gold and red and flashes of colorful dresses as he moved you smoothly through the room.

 

> _I will be brave_
> 
> _I will not let anything, take away_

Your body was graceful as your feet matched his steps, without missing a beat, your psyche knew this, it was like muscle memory, and you found yourself swept up in the music, the way your body responded—coming home, finding the solace in his arms like you’d never left them.

 

> _What’s standing in front of me_
> 
> _Every breath, every hour has come to this_

Your eyes fluttered closed, finding the entire moment nearly overwhelming, and then you could feel it, once your senses were given the freedom from sensory overload, you could feel the heat from his hand on your back, his fingers pressing into your skin, and you could tell, then you realized, he was grasping you, holding you, worried you were going to flee, to run. And you felt the brush of his jacket on your chest, the way his leg moved against yours every forth beat, and you knew, it was purposeful, his breath was warm on the side of your face, and you could feel the way his hip grazed yours when he shifted you to the side, his arm smoothing across your chest, and then you were twirling, and you felt like you were flying.

 

> _And all along I believed, I would find you_
> 
> _Time has brought your heart to me_
> 
> _I have loved you for a thousand years_
> 
> _I’ll love you for a thousand more_

You felt alive, like you could finally take a deep breath, as if you’d just surfaced from a five-year slumber, and when he swept you back into his arms, your vision was drawn to your clasped hands in wonder, the strength in them, the way he held you with both purpose and gentle care, then drifted up his arm, to his shoulder, and then to his jaw, then his cheeks and finally landed on his eyes, soft with amusement, his mouth twisted into a wry grin at exactly how long it had taken you to actually look at him, his voice like velvet, “Hello, Beautiful.”

Your knees went weak and you were thankful when he stepped into you, pulling you closer so you didn’t stumble, picking up for your failures and he was so close, his form pressed against yours, and all that you’d felt before was compounded as his torso brushed against yours. You tilted your face to the side, sighing softly, your cheek nearly touching his, so close, and you wanted to press your face there, to rest against his, to feel the way his skin felt, to relive it just one time, the need was nearly overwhelming, and you found your breath stolen from you.

_“I knew the dress would be exquisite on you.”_

The words were so soft, so faint, you told yourself you’d imagined them, because why would he say such a thing about a dress that your  _mother_  had sent to you?

“Wha—what…,” you whispered, your voice shaking, your brain starting to catch up, “Wh-what in th-the world are you doing?”

“Dancing with the woman I love,” his delicate response caressed your ear, spoken without hesitation, his voice smooth and confident, and you couldn’t help it, your hand moved, across his shoulder, your fingers tangling into his hair on instinct, and then you realized, where you were, who you were and you pulled your hand back, putting it back on his shoulder like a proper lady would do.

Like he sensed your thoughts, knew what you were feeling, he hummed softly, and the room was spinning around you but nothing mattered, no one else was there, just you and him.

“I-I can’t do this,” you muttered, the words so soft, so faint, and you thought maybe he didn’t hear you, but he grunted in displeasure, turning the corner to go around the inner loop.

“Do you love me?”

You jerked your head back, your eyes fixed on his, and he had no worry, no fear, not a single bit of trepidation in his, and yours were wide, shocked, and you opened and closed your mouth as he spun you around, “I-I…”

“It’s actually a very simple question,” he grinned, the edges of his mouth turned up into the cute little smirk you loved the most, and then his hands were on your back, his leg shifting to the side of you, the other pressing forward between your own, making your body tremble, as he leaned you back onto his hand, his other hand moving to press against your heart, soft and gentle as your arms flowed gracefully outward, full of trust that he would not let you fall. 

You drifted in your mind then, and you felt a freedom that had been lacking, as you sensed how firmly he held you, as you knew his eyes were drifting across your skin like the softest caress. Your heart thundered in your chest, shuddering when he drew you back into him, and he moved quickly and you were spinning there in a circle, the tempo faster at this part.

He spun you outward, following after you, and your hand reached out to him—and for a moment, it was just like the many years before, your mind, your heart, your body, your soul all in perfect alignment, reaching for him as if to say— ‘Come to me now, Beloved.’ Your breath caught as his eyes resonated your thoughts, his fingers grazing across yours to take your hand again, twirling you gracefully, bringing you against him, your shoulder against his, your back to his chest, your hand lifting to touch his cheek, eyes meeting momentarily, and you wanted to hide the love you had for him but you couldn’t—not when you could see how soft his eyes were with unfettered affection.

He slowly moved the position, and his hand was clenched against your body, pressing, boldly placed there under the curve of your breast, his fingers spanning across your abdomen, possessive, as if telling everyone in the room, ‘this is mine now—it’s always been mine—it will always be mine’—leading you backward through the steps, sweeping you across the floor, his other hand moving to draw your hand up, placing it firmly against his neck, pressing it there before he moved his hand to grasp your hip again, and your fingers curled instinctively, wanting to hold him there against you, desperate to never leave his arms again.

As ever with him, all you wanted was this, to be close to him, to feel this emotion, this tumultuous ardor that floated between you, turning your head to look at him, your eyes wide with unrepentant yearning, finding he was gazing intently at you, and all you could see was abounding devotion, nothing else, just pure, unadulterated love.

Your breath caught in your throat when the words fell off his lips, his eyes soft with knowing, “I  _already_  know the answer.”

You were so confused, your mind a muddled mess, and him being this close, him holding you like this, the way you were dancing just like you had danced all those many times before, so easy, so simple to do, because he was memorized, imprinted on your soul…and you struggled, because what was happening?

_What am I doing right now?_

_Falling, falling into him._

“I-I can’t do this,” you repeated again, and he spun you quickly, his arm moving out to twirl you around and then pulling you back in sharply, your body slamming into his because you felt like a rag doll being manipulated by its owner, and his hands were firmer now, they were more possessive and he leaned closer to you, and for a moment you thought he was going to kiss you, your breath hitched, your fingers tightening on his instinctively, and you wanted to run away and push forward at the same time.

“Why not?” he asked again, a faint smile playing on his lips as he drew back again, swishing you around the outer edge of the room, your feet off the floor as he swung you, then pulled you back in, his voice soft on your skin, “Tell me you don’t love me,” he swung you out, the tone of his voice changing, “…say those words, and I’ll gladly turn you back over to ‘Mr. Can I Please Have Your Number Even Though I’m Nothing More Than A Misogynistic Ass’ for an evening filled with stories of how exciting his job is as a real estate mogul and how much a fucking  _merger_  with your  _father_  and his would be beneficial—because that’s the tone and manner of any proposal coming from that moron—and please, don’t forget the conversation that would ensue about how the  _heirs_ you would  _produce_ would go on to build an even larger dynasty like the damn male chauvinist pig that he is.”

His voice was laced with disgust with the way, not just Mr. Tanaka, but all of the men in this room looked at you, the way they saw you as a pawn to step upon to raise them to greater heights—a monetary, a strategic union that would be without passion, without true love and affection, but he knew as well as you did—you would be used for every purpose that any of those men could dream of, money, acclaim, power, pride, and certainly lust.

_Clearly, nothing in five years has tempered his imaginary rivalry with Tanaka._

He rolled his eyes dramatically, not even willing to entertain the thought of you ending up with one of them, he’d never let that happen, looking pointedly at you, “So…answer.”

“It’s not that simple,” you shook your head, and tried to form proper words, “I can’t…you are just…we… _you can’t_!”

“Let me be clear,” he instantly moved into the proper dance as the song changed into a new one, and then he was smoothly swirling you again with a different set of steps, “You left, and I lost my mind. I went to Johnny’s and I told them they’d fucked up my life but there was no way they were doing that to any of those Juniors.”

 

> _Wait, I’m wrong_
> 
> _Should have done better than this_
> 
> _Please, I’ll be strong_
> 
> _I’m finding it hard to resist_

You couldn’t stop your shock at the idea of him storming into a room full of executives and pitching a holy fit but you didn’t doubt it, his voice firm when he spoke again, “I quit.”

“Wh-what!?” You yelped, unable to contain your shock, gasping, then glancing around, realizing you weren’t alone, and that your voice had been extremely loud—your eyes wide when his fingers pressed gently on your chin, drawing you back to look at him, his entire countenance demanding that you see he was the only person that mattered right now, and you nodded, your voice low, “You quit!?”

“Uh-huh, I did!” he nodded, a soft laugh filling the air around you, turning again, “I left Johnny’s for a total of three weeks.”

 

> _So, show me what I’m looking for_
> 
> _Save me, I’m lost_
> 
> _Oh Lord, I’ve been waiting for you_
> 
> _I’ll pay any cost_

You were confused and he was clearly amused at the puzzled expression on your face, “They came to me, begging to renegotiate my contract—and I agreed under a single stipulation. Idols were allowed to have relationships. All of them,  _all of us_.”

You couldn’t believe it. That rule, that stupid guideline, had been in place for so long, and you couldn’t begin to guess the complexities of actually getting out of a contract with Johnny’s but he’d done it. He’d left Johnny’s so that he could make those boys lives better—to make it so that the boys could be normal, could be happy.

_So that what happened to us wouldn’t happen to anyone else._

“I can’t believe you did that!” Your voice was filled with awe and admiration.

“I told you, I lost my mind,” he shrugged lightly, his steps smooth, “I didn’t really care if I was a Johnny anymore, as far as I was concerned they ruined my life.”

 

> _Don’t let go_
> 
> _I’ve wanted this far too long_
> 
> _Mistakes become regrets_
> 
> _I’ve learned to love abuse_

That hurt, it hurt and you didn’t want it to, you wanted to shy away from that pain, wanting to flee and hide, forcing yourself to stay there in his arms, “Are you…”

“I’m back, I’m still in Jump, everything is just as it was before, apart from being able to date, be in relationships, get married.”

Suddenly, your heart clenched, and you felt your tummy roll, because he was allowed to be in relationships all this time, he was given permission and, of course, he should, why shouldn’t he?

 

> _Please show me what I’m looking for_
> 
> _Save me, I’m lost_
> 
> _Oh Lord, I’ve been waiting for you_
> 
> _I’ll pay any cost_
> 
> _Save me from being confused_

You didn’t have the right to even consider being jealous but you recognized the emotion clearly, envy swelling up inside of you at the thought that he was able to have the freedom to express his himself openly, fully, to be normal with a girl, to take her places and experience real life with her outside of the strange protected atmosphere you’d been subjected to.

_To love another person._

You felt your eyes prickle with tears at the very thought, admonishing yourself for being so weak, and he laughed, shaking his head, whispering softly in your ear as he led you in a wide arc, “Tch, don’t be  _stupid_.”

The song changed again, and you didn’t recognize the opening chords, didn’t know the song, but he didn’t miss a step, moving you straight into the proper cadence, and when you heard his unmistakable voice singing the lyrics in the song, you couldn’t help it, your feet stumbled, and he caught you, lifting you to spin, to cover for you as you gathered yourself.

 

> _I miss the sound of your voice_
> 
> _And I miss the rush of your skin_
> 
> _And I miss the still of the silence_
> 
> _As you breathe out and I breathe in_

Your head was spinning, as you took in the words, knowing this  _also_  wasn’t just a chance, he’d played whatever this song was on purpose and you were thankful for all the years of dancing that allowed you to be led mindlessly while you took in the words.

 

> _If I could walk on water_
> 
> _If I could tell you what’s next_
> 
> _I’d make you believe_
> 
> _I’d make you forget_

He pulled you into him, then spun you back around, his lips touching the shell of your ear, as he led you backward, his voice soft as he sang the next verse to you.

 

> _So, come on, get higher, loosen my lips_
> 
> _Faith and desire and the swing of your hips_
> 
> _Just pull me down hard_
> 
> _And drown me in love_

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, your entire body was being consumed with him, the sound of his voice, the words he was singing, the way he was touching you, the way his body moved behind you, spinning you outward, grasping the tips of your fingers before you spun back into him and he held you close, for just a moment, his eyes blinking softly, before sweeping you away again, his voice still reaching you as you twirled and whirled at his command.

 

> _I miss the sound of your voice_
> 
> _Loudest thing in my head_
> 
> _And I ache to remember_
> 
> _All the violent, sweet_
> 
> _Perfect words that you said_

And then you were whirling again, spinning around him, and he caught you, taking you backward, his knee behind your leg as he tipped you and gravity hit.

 

> _I miss the pull of your heart_
> 
> _I taste the sparks on your tongue_

For a moment you thought you were going to fall, the world shifting and your vision was filled with the ornate painted ceiling for a moment before his smiling face was in your line of sight. 

 

> _I see angels and devils_

His hand was firm on your neck, holding you, supporting you, his free hand moving up, so close to touching your face, hovering there, so close you could feel the heat radiating off of it. 

 

> _And God, when you come on_

He didn’t touch you, yet your breath caught in your chest, your heart felt as it if had stopped from the way he was looking at you as the he sang the refrain, his eyes clenching shut for a moment, and when he opened them you could see it, the raging war behind his eyes. Before you could think too hard on it, he’d pulled you back up, and set across the floor with you for another sweep.

 

> _It’s all wrong, it’s all wrong_
> 
> _It’s all wrong,  it’s so right_

 

You blinked, because you didn’t know how or when but somehow, he’d moved you to the edge of the room, turning you around to push you forward into a small alcove, his hands on your hips, his voice soft in your ear as he sang to you.

 

> _‘Cause everything works, love_
> 
> _Everything works in your arms_. 

He reached past you to open a door he’d led you to, as you were perfectly useless, in a dreamlike state, everything blurry on the edges, and you were glad he seemed to know what he was doing when he guided you through the doorway his hand firmly pressing your back forward, into a dimly lit room, and the door closed, the space quiet compared to the ballroom, with just the muffled music that could get through the door.

Your eyes began to adjust, inhaling deeply of the sweet fragrance that assailed your senses, blinking rapidly as you realized you were in some kind of small room that was empty of everything apart from a breathtaking display of candles and roses…pedestals and stands of various heights with all sorts of candles and red roses in vases, there must be dozens and dozens of them. 

You didn’t have time to think about what it meant, or who had done it. Since you felt your nerves flaring, twisting your hands together, jumping when his hands grasped your hips, turning you around, his fingers moving up to clench onto your waist, as he pressed you to the side until your back hit the wall, and your eyes were wide, uncertain about what was happening, but he just stared at you. 

His hands releasing you, the thinnest veil of air between the two of you, and his hand moved, hovering there next to your face, his breath soft on your skin, and he was so close to you, the smallest movement and you’d be kissing him, and you battled it, and you could see it, the internal war he was also fighting, and then his hand slammed onto the wall behind you, causing you to jump, his head dropping down, resting his forehead on your shoulder, his body shaking with a heavy breath.

“I need you to listen,” he whispered, lifting his head, his eyes soft and full of sincerity, “I need you to just  _hear_  me for a moment.”

You nodded, you’d do whatever he wanted because he was so earnest, you couldn’t conceive of being anywhere other than right where you were, with him in this space and time.

“There wasn’t anyone else,” he stared at you, and when your eyes shifted to look away, a flicker of doubt filling you, his fingers came up to grab your chin, forcing you to look at him as he spoke with firm conviction, “There is no one else, never has been, I never went out with anyone else,” he whispered, and you realized he knew just what you’d been thinking, of course he did, because he always did that, always knew you better than anyone, sometimes even better than you knew yourself, his head dropped down, shaking it, losing his nerve but pushing the words out, a firm declaration, a fact, “There is no one else for me except you.”

“Ryosuke, I— “

His head jerked up at the sound of his name from your lips, whatever resistance he’d been able to hedge together falling to the ground between you as he pressed forward, his body molding into yours, his hand moving, slowly with great purpose, touching your cheek, and he closed his eyes, trying to savor it, his head reaching forward to press a soft kiss against the other cheek, his lips so tender, so gentle, and you couldn’t think, didn’t want to think anymore. You meant to be calm, meant to be controlled, but your hands moved up into his hair, pulling him into you harshly, and you grasped him, holding him, and his arms moved around you, strong and heavy as they held you in return.

You couldn’t stop it, the first trembling sob that bubbled up out of you, the tears swelling and falling down your cheeks, because how did you  _ever_  let this go?

_How did I ever let him go?_

Nothing in your life had ever touched this, replicated it, ever been anything close to it, not even your job as much as you loved it, as you’d thrown yourself into work, to forget, but there was no forgetting this…and you could tell he was crying too, and then you couldn’t help but laugh, because you were both just so stupid, mostly you, you admitted, and he did the same, pulling back to look at you, his hands stretched across your waist, thumbs stroking the satin fabric softly.

You felt the moment the laughter changed, the way the air in the small hallway became charged with a different energy, your hands shaking as you grazed his chest, moving to touch his cheeks, and you had to say it, needed him to know, no matter what else was going to happen, “There was no one for me either, I didn’t go out once—I think…no, I know, there’s no one else for me either.”

He smiled, laughing softly, shaking his head, then staring at you, his eyes full of emotion, and he shifted, the smallest movement, but you understood the intention, you could read it in his eyes, the question, the fear—and as he moved closer, your hands floating to his shoulders, so close his lips were barely brushing against yours, his fingers sharp on your waist as he held himself in check.

“I-If you don’t…if you don’t stop me now…” his brows furrowed, like even saying it was painful to him, nudging his nose softly against yours the way he always had to say, ‘I love you’ without the words—and you knew he didn’t think about it, you knew his body, his mind, his spirit, his soul knew what you knew—and he did it because it was the truth, and your hands clenched on his shoulders, “If you don’t sto—“

The rest of his words were lost, as your hands moved to thread through his hair, pulling him into you, your mind made up, and his lips were so soft, so gentle, so careful, kissing you once, then shifting, to take your lips against his again. It just wasn’t enough, your hands moved down to the front of his jacket, pulling at him, needing him closer, and he groaned softly, down in his throat, as his arms circled around you, pulling you sharply up against him from the wall, so hard that you had to go onto your tiptoes, bringing you up to him. In that moment, when your soft lips met again, it wasn’t in a testing, uncertain way, but in the way of lovers from all of time, gentle but demanding, you were each speaking words that had been silenced for five long years.

It seemed to you that your body was melting, as if every part of your being was releasing into the ether, into particles to meet with his in perfect unison. As if the very essence of who you were knew better all along than either of you ever had what was meant to be, and despite your own stubbornness, and the world and life all trying to keep you apart, the two forces were always seeking on another, always yearning, always stretching against the binds that held them back, and now, finally, restored to rejoice in the beautiful composition that they created—their colors, their hues forming to make a new, more vibrant color than either could ever do on your own.

Like a magnetic force that had been held just out of reach for too long, and then they collided together with a snap—so were the two of you.

_You never left me._

_You were always there._

The pull impossible to deny as his lips, his tongue, his body, stealing your breath away, causing you to tremble and a need awoke in you that you’d never known before—you’d been so young before, you were just children really—innocent and timid and unknowing of what passion truly was—and suddenly you were filled with an awareness, if you didn’t know ever before, in this moment, you realized that you two had actually grown up, you’d become adults in the time apart.

You’d grown up, but you hadn’t grown apart. Nothing had changed, your heart was bent toward him, his was bent toward you.

_He’s mine, and I am his._

You gasped as his lips released yours, his tongue exploring the skin along your jaw as he moved to your neck, his words soft on your skin, “I love you, I love you so much,” and you were overwhelmed by the crash of feelings, emotions, the explosion of all of the parts of you that you’d denied for so long, and now, he was here, and the words fell off your lips as easily as they had many years ago, simple and easy, like your body had been waiting the whole time for you to speak life into existence again, “I love you, Ryosuke.”

He moaned softly, his fingers gentled where he was touching you, his hands a caress as he released you, moving, drawing back to look into your eyes, and he was breathing heavily with you, his eyes shining with barely contained desire, and his hands cupped your face, and he looked at you, he looked past your eyes, and it seemed for a moment as if you were exposed to him, as if your very soul was bared before him.

You could see his soul, shining brightly outwardly, the words floating across your mind’s eye, words of love, of passion, of commitment, of truth, of destiny, of dreams, and hopes and a future, of a life that belonged to the two of you for lives long past lived and those that lie in the space before you, of a life that was yours for the taking if you just would take that first step into it. To be sure of not falling, even though you couldn’t see the path before you, to know what it looked like, just moving forward into it because you trusted that you weren’t going to fall.

He’d catch you.

_He’s always been there._

_He’s always caught me._

You could hardly breathe, as the truth seemed to wash across your skin, and you could tell he was thinking carefully, measuring words that he wanted to say, and it was one of the things you loved about him—he saw great value in words, saw power in them, and never spoke lightly when it was of any importance.

Your hands moved to grasp his wrists, holding them tightly in yours as you smiled, because this was real—this was real, and this was true—he was real, and he was really right here in front of you, he was still the boy who loves you—he’d never stopped loving you.

_I love him still, more than I could have imagined._

And in that moment, no matter how much he had planned to speak the words of angels to you, to make you weak with his confession, the words failed him, all of the many months of planning to get you here into this very moment in time, and nothing would come to him, no words other than the ones that were screaming at him from every angle, and instead of fighting it, he spoke them out loud.

“Marry me.”

Your brows creased, having been caught up in your thoughts, your eyes curious, head tilting as much as it could within his hands, you wondered if you were hearing things, and he could tell that you were trying to figure out if he’d really said it or not, then he was gone, and you were blinking rapidly, looking at the wall across from you, head snapping down to see him on his knee in front of you, his hand extended, holding a box that was opened with what you knew was the ring that had been passed down through generations of his family.  

Your mind was whirling, and then you couldn’t stand, couldn’t keep your legs under you because they were so wobbly, and you slowly dropped to the ground in front of him, your hands holding his with the ring between you and you couldn’t stop the tears, couldn’t stop the way your heart was pounding, and you shook your head, your voice shaking, “Th-this can’t be real.”

He laughed, his eyes glassy with unshed tears, and he shook his head, leaning down to be sure you looked him in the eyes, “I lost you for five years, and I waited, and you waited, and you know what? I’m not sorry—it was what we needed to do, it doesn’t have to make sense to anyone else, but I know it makes sense to me and you—and I have no regrets,”  you nodded at his conviction, and then he took a deep breath, and you could feel his hands shaking under yours, his voice laced with a deep rooted need, “—but please, I’m begging you— _please_ , don’t make me ever have to watch you walk away from me again, don’t make me leave you ever again.”

He took a shuddering breath and the pain you’d both bore from the past seemed to float between you, each of you accepting what the other had suffered, had endured, and then he shoved it all away, like he had a magic wand that he used to dispel the darkness—his face so soft, his eyes twinkling in the candle light flickering against the walls, his voice smooth and soft, “Please, marry me.”

He saw the moment you’d said yes, the change in your expression, the way your eyes lit up, without the word even needing to be spoken, and the ring was dropped, his hands pulling you over to him, and this kiss, it wasn’t like the soft, gentle ones from before, rather this was something completely other, a kiss unlike any you’d shared with him before. This kiss was filled with all of the pages of your story that were yet to be written, every promise that could be made, every song melody, every syllable—being etched indelibly on your soul with this searing, passionate kiss.

_This perfect kiss._


End file.
